Joust Murder
by ladyd10
Summary: When the artistic director of a renaissance faire is murdered, can the team find the killer in time?
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: The Faire folk in this story are based on real persons, dear friends of mine whom I work with at our local Renaissance Faire. The names of the characters that they portray have not been changed, as they are actual historical persons, but their real names have, mostly to protect the guilty. Face it, they're my friends...they are not innocent. Much valued, much loved, but definitely not innocent.

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This fic comes with a dictionary for those unfamiliar with certain terms and articles of clothing worn in the 16th Century.

Addle-pated- a few fries short of a Happy Meal

A.P.Q.- Actress Portraying Queen

Attifet- a style of women's head dressing that is heart-shaped and often trimmed with lace.

Bodice- a woman's garment, much like a vest and can either be laced up the front or the back.

Bumroll- a stuffed crescent shaped pad that goes around a woman's waist to help support the weight of the skirts.

Chemise- a unisex long sleeved shirt. There are three major kinds:

A. Noble- open fronted, tied high necked and ruffled at the wrists and neck

B. Common man- less high necked with no ruffles and closed most of the way down the front.

C. Common woman- scoop necked and closed fronted. Often referred to as wench wear.

Certes- certainly

Corset- a woman's garment that is heavily stiffened and boned. It is also called a pair of bodies. This garment is the precursor to the bra and is laced up the back and is used to give support to a woman's back to help carry the weight of the gown.

Doublet- either men's or women's suit jacket

Farthingale- hoop skirt worn under the women's skirts. Along with the bumroll, it helps to support the weight of the skirts.

Overskirt- the top layer of skirt worn.

Partlet- a small, yet highly decorated, covering over the top of a woman's bodice, usually to help keep her warm.

Venetians- Mens' short pants. They are roomy and are gathered in a leg band just below the knee.

Slops- Also known as "pumpkin pants". The are a precursor to modern shorts, often filled with bombast of some kind (Wool and straw were the most common) and can either be plain or panes with decorative contrasting strips of fabric at intervals.

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_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 1**_

Almost everyone had gone for the night, either home, to a local motel or the Truckers Association, or TA, for a quick shower and a hot meal. The final, frantic rehearsal of the principal players had been over for an hour already. Scott Friedman began his customary nightly rounds just to make sure everything was locked up tight for the night. Tomorrow was Opening Day and he wanted everything to be perfect when the season's first patrons walked through that front gate.

He patrolled the New Market area, stopping only to gaze up at the newly installed Dreadnought, the full scale recreation of an Elizabethan era naval vessel. He let himself have the luxury of imagining himself thrown back in time. He was a seasoned sailor ready to embark upon the high seas to defend the tiny island nation of England against the might of Spain.; to fight for Queen and country the highest honor he could have.

Shaking his head, he brought himself out of his reverie and continued along, crossing the bridge into the thrill ride area, past the Royal Menagerie and onto the High Street area. He stood at the top of the hill and looked down both sides of the wide street, each shop closed up tight for the night. A couple of pale lights glimmered from second floor living quarters above a few shops. Passing Lord Mayor's Forum and into the Sun Garden, Scott saw that peace reigned supreme. He followed into the Faerie Bower and the Celtic encampment. He stopped at the Commons stage and made certain that the Fight Cast's things were all functioning properly and secured for the night. He turned and made for the Dirty Duck Inn and then through the meadow toward the joust field. He was just waving a good-night to a merchant closing the front of his newly constructed shop when he heard the sound of hoof beats on the soft sand of the joust field. He looked over; plumes of dust glowed in the swiftly fading light.

"What the-" Scott muttered as he trotted down the steep hill.

A form, mounted on one of the joust horses, rode the oval. The figure was clad in ill-fitting armor; the colors silver and green. The figure fired a crossbow at a stationary target.

"Hey! Hey Carl! It's getting too dark for this! Pack it in for the night, will ya?" Scott hollered, dumbfounded why Carl would endanger himself and Bo for a couple of minutes extra practice when there wasn't enough light. "You know Dave will have kittens if he finds out. Practice in the morning."

The Knight wheeled his horse around, aimed the bow and fired, the bolt burying itself squarely in Scott's neck; a killing blow.

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"His name is Robert Scott Friedman, 41, Artistic Director of SFRF," Horatio said, rising from the victim and addressing his team. Dawn light had barely begun to pink the sky. "The security Chief found him during morning rounds 45 minutes ago. The murder weapon appears to be a bow of some kind." Although it was a tad too early to need them, he placed his sunglasses on his face anyway. "Looks like it's time to get Medieval."

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"This is a murder investigation, ma'am. You can't open today. My team needs to process the entire scene," Horatio said, hands on hips, pushing back his suit jacket, revealing his badge and firearm.

"Look, Lieutenant, I don't mean to be difficult, but I have no choice. The owners in Kansas City have instructed me to open those gates at ten o'clock, no matter what. If we don't open today, then we won't be able to open at all. Scott wouldn't have wanted that. The only reason that we can open this season is because we were open last season. Nobody opens a Renn. Faire to get rich. It's just enough to stay even. We're season to season. I've instructed my security team to give you whatever help you need, but those gates have to open at ten," the woman said. She was Lisa Peters, the Faire's general manager. "It's beyond comprehension why anyone would want to kill Scott, but my hands are tied. I'm sorry."

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"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we'll have to divide up to interview, get DNA samples and print," Horatio told his team. They had briefly taken up residence in an on site pub called the Pig 'n Whistle. "Natalia, you have Kids' Kingdom, merchants that stayed on site last night and the Town Criers. Mr. Wolfe, you have the Maypole Mayhem, Street Troupe and the Fantasticals; Eric, the Fight Cast, Joust Troupe and Military; Calleigh, Court , Guilde of St. Lawrence, which is at the Dirty Duck Inn and Celtic Connections at the Croft. Frank and I are taking the management staff, grounds crew and security."

Calleigh paged through her file. "I'm not complaining, but my list looks like the white page section of the Miami phone book. How am I supposed to get all these people swabbed, printed and interviewed before 10; that's three hours away."

"Just how many people work here?" Natalia asked, her own list looking suspiciously phone book like.

Horatio checked his numbers on the faire employed list. "Nearly 1,000 people. Ms. Peters suggests that you start with the Court troupe, or Guilde of St. George. They have a call time of 7:45 so you'll have a little time to start the process before the Faire opens. This goes for all of you; concentrate on the ones that are supposed to be here this weekend. We'll deal with the others later. Pop the laptops and get started. Someone decided to play William Tell. He's had his Overture, let's get him before he has a first act."

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Sara Wisdom rubbed her eyes. "S'cuse me?"

"I said I'm Natalia Boa Vista from the Miami Dade Crime Lab. There was a homicide here last night. Robert Scott Friedman was killed. I understand that you and your husband stayed here last night. Did you see or hear anything that might help in the investigation?" Natalia said pleasantly.

"Where are my manners? Please, come upstairs. Outside of going out to eat, Mike and I were here all night." Sara said, ushering Natalia up a narrow stairway to the living quarters above the shop. To Natalia's surprise, it was comfortable and welcoming. There was even furniture that were not your garden variety folding chairs. Sara indicated a plush bean bag chair. "Please have a seat." Sara raised her voice. "Mike, we have company. We'll need more coffee."

"Really, it's not necessary," Natalia said, not wanting to put anyone out.

"It's no trouble at all. Mike and I want to help in any way we can, although it's hard to believe that someone would kill Scott." Sara said as Mike entered carrying three beautiful ceramic mugs. He handed one to Sara, one to Natalia and kept one for himself.

Natalia looked the man over. He was already dressed for the day in a natural color linen chemise with beautiful Celtic embroidery running down both sleeves. Over this he wore a front lacing leather vest in medium brown. He also wore venetians and tights. On his feet were leather shoes that looked properly period for the 16th Century.

"I saw Scott last night as I was closing up the front of the shop. I waved to him. He seemed to be headed down to the joust field," Mike said sipping his own coffee.

"Did you see anything after that, Mr. Wisdom?"

"No, I didn't. Sara and I went to dinner right after that. We took the high road right in back of the shop and it was already dark when we got back. I wish I could be of more help," Mike said, buttering some toast. "I wish I knew more. Scott was a pretty nice guy. He drove plenty of people nuts during rehearsals, but I don't think anyone in the cast killed him.

"Why is that?" Natalia asked, accepting some toast and butter.

Sara shrugged. "Rennies may be a lot of things, but these people are not killers. Everyone is too much of a family."

"Would you care for breakfast, Ms. Boa Vista?" Mike offered cordially.

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By 8:30 a.m. The Crime Lab team had assembled under the first aide tent behind the Globe Stage where the all cast morning meeting would take place in a half an hour.

"I've never met a more co-operative group of people in my life. The Military group offered up fingerprints and information on themselves without my asking for it. It seems that with the exception of the children, every one of them should be in AFIS. They own and operate 16th Century firearms and have to be registered and printed," Eric said, sitting down.

Natalia sat next to him. "Tell me about it. I've had to accept three breakfasts, four offers of tea or coffee and a couple of sweet rolls from the merchants I interviewed. They're falling over themselves to help."

Both Ryan and Calleigh nodded in agreement They each had experienced the same thing. "It's not a put on, either. These people are genuinely upset, " Calleigh said.

Horatio leaned against the first aide trailer, sunglasses covering his eyes. "So we have an eager and co-operative suspect pool that is killing us with kindness and generosity."

Natalia stifled a small burp. "And hospitality; let's not forget that."

"You know, if I didn't need to look on every one of them as a potential killer, I'd believe them all." Ryan offered.

"Well, we'll get to talk to them enmasse at their morning meeting," Horatio informed them. In truth, he had found the same attitude and willingness from everyone he interviewed. _For a nearly 1,000 soul organization they lived and breathed as one organism; one soul, if only for the weekend._

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"Good morning, everyone!"

"Good morning, Lisa!" the near 1,000 voice greeting died as surely as the Artistic Director had.

"Alright, by now all of you have heard that Scott was killed last night. Today isn't going to be easy and none of our hearts are in this, but we're going to have to do our best to give our patrons as good a show as we can." Lisa said. She gestured to Horatio. "This is Lt. Horatio Caine from the Miami Dade Crime Lab. He and his team will be investigating the murder. I know I don't have to ask this, but please give Lt. Caine and his team all the co-operation you can. Thanks."

Lisa stepped back and Horatio took a few steps forward. "Good morning everyone-"

"Good morning, Lt. Caine...Nice hair!" they chorused. A few chuckles were heard.

Horatio looked over at Lisa with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged. "It's just their way of welcoming you. Go with it."

Horatio cleared his throat. "Thank you. My team and I will be fingerprinting, getting DNA samples and interviewing each of you. This is for exclusionary purposes. We are mindful of your performance schedules and will try to disrupt things as little as possible. For now, we'll begin with those scheduled later and work from there. If there is anything that will camouflage us to the patrons, please let us know and we will do our best to comply."

There was silence for a long moment as the reality of what Horatio said sank in to the cast. A lone voice started the chant. " Share it; dress them up!" Soon a dozen, then several dozen, then the entire cast took up the chant. "Share it; dress them up!"

Lisa shrugged. "The people have spoken."

"Vox populi."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 2**_

Calleigh looked at her wardrobe, skepticism plain on her face. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm not going to wear that, am I? That's never going to fit."

They were on the second floor of the wardrobe area, better known as the Costume Shop. Sewing machines and sergers lined a few tables. Piles of fabric cluttered the corners. Calleigh fought a sneeze at all the fabric dust in the air.

A trim, fit man in his mid-thirties with a receding hairline looked her up and down, appraising her in the most professional of manners. "Trust me, I've been doing this longer than you think and I know what will fit you like a dream. Don't worry, I'll dress you. Time to get naked."

"Excuse me?"

He handed her a white open fronted chemise, knee high stockings in the same color as the gown and a pair of white bloomers. "Change your clothes. Go behind the screen if you're shy, but it doesn't matter to me. I've seen more naked bodies than I ever care to admit; I've been doing this a long time."

Calleigh eyed him and then took the proffered clothes, stepping behind the screen, feeling extremely self-conscious and vulnerable. To cover her nervousness, she said, "You're a Southern boy, but not from around here."

Tom Hicks chuckled, realizing how uncomfortable the woman must be at the moment. This had to be an experience very much outside her realm of knowledge. "Raleigh, North Carolina. How about you, Scarlett? That's not a Florida accent."

"Darnell, Louisiana, about four and a half hours northeast of New Orleans. It's not Mississippi, but you can see it from there." Calleigh said, feeling a little better; the small talk giving her a chance to get to know the man that was going to be dressing her in the most outlandish outfit she had ever worn. She pulled on the stockings. "I went to school in New Orleans, though; Tulane."

"I went to the University of North Carolina. I got my Masters in Costume Design," he replied, smoothing out a small wrinkle in the emerald green velvet overskirt. He frowned at it when it refused to budge. "I minored in theater. How about you?"

"I got my degree in Physics with a minor in Neurophysiology," Calleigh supplied, stepping from behind the screen. She clutched the chemise closed at the chest, feeling rather exposed.

Tom flicked his gaze over at her and sighed. It was always the same with the first-timers. "Drop the bra, sweetie. You won't need it. You have a corset."

Calleigh opened her mouth to protest, but she realized that she didn't really have the time to fuss and argue with the man, particularly since she had several hundred potential suspects to still interview. She ducked back behind the screen and complied. She stepped back out and approached him, feeling extremely shy again. "Alright, what do we do now?"

He held up her corset, sliding the straps up over her arms and helping her adjust the chemise so that it sat smoothly against her skin. "This goes on first. I'm going to lace you and then I'll tighten it down. This is not used to constrict your breathing or make your waist look smaller, but to give support to your frame so that you'll be able to bear the weight of the gown better. You're going to find it a little uncomfortable at first. Just breathe normally and trust me."

Calleigh gasped as he began to tighten the lacings. She fought panic as her manner of breathing gradually changed to adjust to the pressure of the garment. Finally, she was tied off. "You did that well. I've had ladies face that less bravely. Ok, now we put on the farthingale. This is going to help support the weight of your skirts and keep them from tangling up between your legs." He lifted the conical garment over her head and fastened it at her waist. "It's flexible so it's not going to go flying up in the air when you sit down like a Carol Burnett comedy sketch. Ask any of the Court Ladies to show you the best way to cope with a wide load. Next is the bumroll. This is also going to support the weight of your skirts. It'll take it off your waist and lower back and place it on the hips, which are sturdier."

As he tied the crescent shaped roll around her waist, she asked, "You keep referring to the weight of the skirts. Just how much am I going to be carrying around with me? Is this going to interfere with my job here in any way? If I have to chase a suspect down-"

"Lift your skirts by the farthigale's boning and go. All in all, the entire thing is about 27 pounds. Trust me, honey, you won't notice the weight. It's far easier to wear than carry." Tom said, lifting the petticoat with a beautifully decorated triangle of honey gold fabric on it. It was richly embroidered with gold threads, facetted crystals and pearls. He lifted the skirt over her head and fastened it at her waist, the bumroll making the obvious weight almost nothing. He pushed down on the padding, making sure everything settled in right before swirling the emerald green overskirt around her, tying it off at the waist. It settled in rich, majestic folds around her, framing the forepart perfectly, the farthingale holding it away from her legs. He slid the matching emerald green and gold trimmed bodice up over her arms, lacing it shut up the back with a gossamer golden ribbon. He fussed with her appearance for a few moments before stepping back, apparently satisfied with his work. He had to admit, even though she struck him as a beautiful woman when she entered, she was simply stunning now, the emerald of the dress drawing out the emerald of her eyes and setting her blonde hair off like a golden halo. "You're a vision."

"I feel like a sausage," Calleigh said, looking down at what she could see of herself. It was all very different and surreal. She could barely feel the weight of the gown at all. "Am I done now? I have a suspect pool and-"

"You still have your hair to deal with," A female voice said from behind her. Calleigh attempted to whip around and see who the voice belonged to, but the dress prevented her from doing so.

"Hi, I'm Kathryn. Tom asked me to do your hair. Just sit down. This won't take long. I'm in the Court so you can actually get my interview over with while I do your hair." Calleigh sighed, sat down and let the plump, pleasant looking woman brush out her hair. At least she'd get one interview done before she met with the rest of the team.

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"I'm wearing what?" Ryan asked incredulously, standing in the downstairs costume area of the Globe Theater. He eyed the multicolored tights, fool's hat and particolored tunic with a great deal of suspicion.

Tom sighed. If Calleigh had been a little difficult, this guy was going to be a handful. "Look, you're part of Maypole Mayhem and the only costume I have left is the Hobby Horse. It's a really traditional part played in historical English folk traditions. Besides, Mitch took the weekend off for his daughter's wedding."

"Yeah, but..." Ryan said, taking in the plush horse's body he would have to carry around on him all day. "How am I supposed to move with that thing on me?"

"I've already explained to Calleigh when I dressed her that she'd be able to move very naturally if the need arose. Ryan, the only other costume I can have for you is that of the town privy cleaner. I can have Steve switch and be the Hobby Horse, but you'd be sitting inside of a large wooden toilet all day. I can't think of how you're supposed to interview anyone in that," Tom said, watching the mildly disgusted reaction Ryan had when he head the words 'wooden toilet'.

"You don't have any fools' costumes left?" Tom shook his head. "Just my own and you're not going to fit in it; you're too tall. Get dressed and I'll be back to help you put the horse's body on. I have to change clothes."

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Horatio leaned against the first aid trailer, sunglasses in hand, looking cool and comfortable in his Security tan and whites, his firearm and badge clearly visible. Frank looked just as comfortable in his matching uniform. Horatio watched as each of his team trickled in, costumed to fit in with their respective groups.

Eric sat at the picnic table in his military work uniform. It consisted of a closed natural colored chemise, dark brown front lacing leather jerkin, dark venetians, knee socks and soft leather shoes. He toyed with his navy flat cap. He was in quiet conversation with Natalia. She wore a pale yellow, scoop necked chemise, blue front lacing bodice and a series of multi-hued skirts, some tucked up at the waistband, exposing the layer beneath. She, too wore the knee high stockings and soft leather shoes. On her head sat a blue flat cap that matched her bodice.

"Where's Wolfe and Calleigh?" Eric asked. He was impatient to get back to work, but he knew that the meeting that they were about to have was just as important.

"Apparently, fitting into their respective groups is going to take a bit more work. Mr. Hicks said that their costumes were more complicated," Horatio said as Ryan walked up, horse's body bobbing around him.

Eric, unable to help himself, let out a snorting laugh. "Man, Wolfe, I always knew you were a horse's-"

"Shut up Delko. It could be worse; I could be wearing a wooden toilet. Just give me a little dignity, here." Ryan grouched. He sat on the edge of the bench and looked mildly miserable.

"You know, Mr. Wolfe, the hobby horse goes far back into Pagan England's history-" Horatio began, but was cut off by a female voice.

"Oh, dear God, this thing has it's own gravitational pull!" Calleigh exclaimed, sweeping up to the group after having had the gown hasten her descent from the upstairs costume shop.

"Wow!" Horatio commented at her emerald and gold appearance. It was like nothing he had seen, nor had any of them seen before. She was simply gorgeous in a very different way and he was entirely unprepared for his own reaction to her appearance. If anything, being as completely covered as she was made her seem more attractive to him. _Was her waist really that tiny? He felt as if he could put his hands around it and the fingers just might touch._

"You look like you just stepped out of a portrait," Natalia commented.

"Thanks, but I feel like an idiot," Calleigh said, her cheeks flushing. She glanced at Ryan. "But you look like one."

"Thanks Princess," he grumbled.

"Alright everyone, here's the plan. You spend the morning with your respective groups and interview, print and swab as many as possible. Calleigh, where's your firearm and pager?" Horatio asked, fighting his earlier reaction.

Calleigh gestured to the basket slung over her left arm. "In here. It's not ideal, but I can't exactly strap it anywhere else without tipping off the fact that I'm not part of the cast."

"Right," Horatio agreed, checking his watch. 9:53. "We'll meet back here at 12:30, right before the midday parade and see if there are any leads. In the meantime, let's get to work."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: R.E.S.C.U is a real organization within the Renaissance Faire community. Many of our talented and gifted performers and crafters are what we call circuit performers/crafters and work for themselves and are often unable to afford health insurance for themselves. I have personal stories of R.E.S.C.U. being able to lift the financial burden of several people I personally know, even one of paying for an entertainer's child's leukemia treatment and also helping him pay the burial costs when the leukemia could no longer be treated. If you want to know more about the R.E.S.C.U. Foundation go to: This is for Sherwin._

_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 3**_

Calleigh hustled down the corridor of the ME's complex, grabbed a spare lab coat and wrestled it over the shoulder rolls of her costume. Ignoring the raised eyebrows and puzzled expressions of the people she passed she hurried through the autopsy theater doors.

Alexx looked up from the body of Scott Friedman. "Well aren't you all fancy." She raised an eyebrow at Calleigh's appearance. "What's with the get up?"

"Since we couldn't prevent the Faire from opening, we have to dress up to blend in with our respective troupes." Calleigh stepped back and executed a very slow spin, unwilling to let the weight of her skirts wrench her lower back. The inset crystals flashed brightly in the theater's lighting. Gold glinted warmly from the partlet and bodice. "I am Susan Bertie, Lady Grey, Countess of Kent in the Royal Court since I've finished my half of the merchants off already. It's pretty, but that's about it. It's like carrying a very fancy wet burlap tarp around with you; heavy and confining. And don't even get me started on the whole corset thing. What do you have for me?"

Alexx chuckled and held up a cross bow bolt_. 'Pretty' doesn't cover it, baby girl. You're stunning_. "Here's your projectile."

Calleigh took it from her and looked it over with a practiced eye. "It's short which means that either it's from a bow that has a very short draw length like a Magyar horse bow or it's from a crossbow. Since there are only two parallel fletchings instead of three in a triangular pattern and there's no knocking point to secure the arrow to the string, I'd say this is a crossbow bolt. The shaft is wooden so I would rule out a modern crossbow simply because a wooden shaft would shatter upon impact with the target and this one is pristine. Since there's no blood on the fletchings other than aspiration, I'd say that it was fired from a bow with a draw strength of under 100 pounds."

"Now how in the world do you know that honey?" Alexx's jaw dropped. She was used to Calleigh verbally rapid firing bullet characteristics all the time but she had been completely unprepared for her friend's knowledge of medieval weaponry. "Did that dress come with a medieval education CD ROM or something?"

Calleigh laughed at the incredulity of Alexx's tone. "No, bows are firearms and as is evidenced here, you can still kill someone with them. Besides, I'm a firearms expert. It's what I do. So what was the exact cause of death?"

"The arrow pierced his windpipe and the tip buried itself in the second cranial vertebrae. Baby boy choked to death on his own blood," Alexx said sadly, stroking Scott's curly short hair. "He lasted long enough to know that he was dying."

Calleigh closed her eyes briefly at the horror of it. "The Faire folk are taking this really hard. You wouldn't believe how co-operative they are. They want the killer as badly as we do. I've got to get back and let Horatio know what you found. Thanks, Alexx."

"Hi guys, I know you have a show to do in a while, but I need to fingerprint you," Eric said, setting down the leather bag that held his print scanner.

David Thomas, the head of the joust troupe and Master of Ceremonies for the jousting show, stepped forward, his articulated plate armor clanking noisily. "Listen, we'll be happy to let you ink up our hands after the 5:30 joust, but we have to keep our hands clean for the horses."

"You won't have ink on your hands, sir." Eric said, taking his scanner out and turning it on. "We use a scanner. It won't take but a couple of seconds to scan both hands. I can interview you as I go along. You won't be late for your show; I promise,"

"Well, I can save you the trouble of interviewing us. None of my guys stayed here last night. We have a block of rooms up at the Value Inn on 50. We all left together," David said as he allowed Eric to scan his hands. "Carl, quit fussing with Bo and get printed."

"I'm not fussing. Someone's been screwing around with my tack," Carl grumbled, exiting Bo's stall. "I was just saddling Bo and the stirrups are too long." To the world at large he asked "Who the hell has been riding my horse?"

"What do you mean your stirrups are too long?" Another of the jousters stepped over to the stall and looked in. "You're the tallest guy here man. That's impossible."

Carl led him into the stall. "Look; that's where I normally keep the length. You can see the wear mark. But this is where the buckle is now. I didn't move it, Jim."

"Hey, wait, don't touch anything. That could have the killer's fingerprints on it." Eric's head snapped around and he was off like a shot, closing the distance to the stall doo in a few long strides. Looking also Carl's shoulder he eyeballed the wear patterns before saying "You can't use this tack. It's evidence and so is the horse. I'm going to have to process them for fingerprints and any other trace evidence. You're going to have to find another horse to ride for today."

Carl shook his head. "Bo is my horse. You can't just take him."

"Don't worry, no one will hurt him," Eric reassured him quickly, taking the horse's lead and removing him from the stall. "He'll just be combed and looked over for evidence. He'll probably be a little spoiled, too."

"But-"

"I promise that I'll have him back to you as soon as possible. He'll be well cared for." Eric said, taking out his cell. He dialed a familiar number and waited. "Hey, Cal, can you come behind the Joust field as soon as you pull in? I have an evidence gathering job I need help on and you're the perfect person to help me."

Calleigh looked up at the beautiful blonde horse and then back at Eric. "The horse is evidence."

Eric grinned at her."Yeah."

"The horse is evidence."

"Yeah."

She gave him a skeptical look. "You're not pulling my leg?"

"Nope." Eric said, enjoying the look of disbelief on his partner's face. "I'll take the tack; you take the horse."

"Why do I get the horse?" she asked, grabbing hold of the lead and securing it to the back fence of the joust stables.

"Because you're from the country. Don't people in Louisiana own horses?" Eric asked, retrieving his printing powder and brush. He waked over to the picnic table and began printing the tack.

"Darnell is a small town, not farm country, Eric," Calleigh said, annoyed. She took paper and began to comb the horse's coat for any foreign substances. "I've never owned a horse nor have I ever ridden one."

"Oh." Eris said, starting to lift prints from the tack. "His name is Bo."

Calleigh folded the paper and slid it into an evidence envelope, sealing it shut and initialing it. "Whose name is Bo?"

"Your evidence."

"Alright ladies and gentlemen," Horatio said as his team gathered behind the Globe Theater stage set, "We've almost nothing to go on. Our Faire folk check out clean with nothing more than a minor possession charges. Eric and Calleigh have some trace evidence, but since it's a time sensitive thing, what they got in the joust stable could have already been unknowingly compromised."

"These people are the most squeaky clean group I have ever met, Frank is taking the evidence back to the Lab for me since I am not relishing another attempt at driving in this thing." Calleigh said, fussing with her sleeve for a moment then looking up. "Until it's analyzed, we're at a dead end. What do you want to do?"

"I think we need to stay here and keep our eyes and ears open," Horatio replied, and although not a sound was made, he knew each and every member of his team groaned inwardly. "Calleigh, did you manage to print the Queen?"

"You mean Actress Portraying Queen. She was very adamant about that; something about just being an actor and not actual royalty." Calleigh shrugged; she'd heard far stranger things during an investigation. "Anyway, yes I have and she's just as clean as the rest. Just a couple of speeding tickets, which were all paid," she said, using her feather fan to cool the sweat on her face. "I suppose this means we have to march in the Parade, then, huh?"

"You all are the best eyes and ears. Our killer could be on the Faire grounds," Horatio said, still looking comfortable in his security uniform. He spread out a map of the parade formation, indicating each group in turn. "Mr. Wolfe, you and Ms. Boa Vista are situated in the front of the parade, Eric you're toward the middle and Calleigh, you're at the very end so that covers the entire line; keep your eyes and ears open for anything unusual."

"In this crowd?" Ryan groaned and wiped the back of his neck with a cold, wet towel that Eric handed him. "You're asking a lot boss."

"Patrons on both extremes and every point in between," Natalia said downing her third V8 and tossing Calleigh her fourth. "And, if that wasn't enough, they all carry weapons."

"I've counted four double headed axes, three Scottish claymores, eight great swords; I've lost count on how many rapiers and swords, fourteen longbows and recurves, two crossbows and any number of small daggers and knives," Calleigh recounted, then downed her beverage in a single long series of swallows as a man in his middle thirties walked up to them.

She recognized him as one of the Courtiers that she had interviewed earlier in the day.

He was a sturdily built man wearing a green brocade doublet, half cape in black and green and plain black venetians.

"Danny sent these over. He thought y'all might need them." He held out a double handful of large soft pretzels all covered liberally in salt. "They're really great before Parade. The whole Court eats them; they really give you the boost to get through."

"Thanks, uhm..." Calleigh smiled brightly up at him, realizing for the first time that she was a little hungry. She took one of the proffered pretzels. " It's Chris, right?"

He returned her smile. "Yeah. Anyway, hanging out with us and doing what we do is hard enough on y'all without having to do your jobs on top of it. I hope it helps. Oh, and if you get hungry, Annie said that you can all snack off of our co-op table once it's set up. There's always more than enough food. But if you're brave enough to eat from the vendors, the portobella bangers or the hot, garlic, buttered mushrooms are the way to go."

"That's a big help," Horatio said, realizing that he, too, was getting hungry. "Tell Danny thank you for us."

"I will and I'll let you get back to your meeting now. Sorry to interrupt." Chris gave them a final grin and wave before moving off up the hill to finish resting before the all-cast mid-day parade stepped off.

"I cannot believe that our killer could be one of these people." Natalia chewed thoughtfully, pacing. "They're so kind and giving. It just doesn't add up."

She gestured to a flyer announcing the_ "Good Guys vs. Bad Guys_" volleyball game in a couple of weeks to raise money for R.E.S.C.U. , the Renaissance Entertainers, Services and Crafters United, a foundation that raised money to aide faire participants in times of medical financial need.

"I'm having a hard time getting my head around it, too, H," Eric said, munching a pretzel. He lifted a metal tankard, taking a long swallow of his watered down sports drink. "Is there any chance that the killer isn't linked to the Faire?"

"It's very unlikely since Mr. Friedman was murdered by a crossbow bolt fired from a replica of a 16th Century crossbow. Alexx said there was a steep angle of entry, which meant he fired it from an elevated angle. The jouster's horse and tack had been tampered with. So, it stands to reason that our killer is familiar with the weaponry and is comfortable riding and shooting from horseback," Horatio recounted for everyone as they began to move up the hill toward the line-up area.

"So, we may be looking for a disgruntled former jouster?" Eric asked.

Horatio nodded, placing his sunglasses back over his eyes. "It's not out of the realm of possibility."

"Crown up!" Danny announced loudly up the hill, effectively breaking up the meeting. "Everyone line up!"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 4**_

"For God, St. George and Elizabeth...Hip, hip!" Lady Philadelphia Carey, Baroness Scrope of Bolton cheered as the Parade wound it's way along the sunny path lined with waving and cheering patrons.

Calleigh winced for the fourth time at the loudness of the woman's voice directly in the back of her head. "Huzzah!" she cheered along with the rest of the Court Ladies, her eyes scanning the gathered crowd with intensity for anything amiss or out of place. _The bad thing was, when you're stuck inside a living anachronism, everything looked out of place._

She smiled and waved, playing her part.

They turned left and entered a shaded street, two story shops towering over them, giving them a much needed respite from the intense South Florida sun. Cheering and waving patrons crowded the street, clustering in front of the shops. A shower of multicolored rose petals cascaded over Calleigh and she tried not to flinch from the sudden unexpectedness of it. Brushing a soft pink rose petal from her sleeve she smiled. _Not everyone was out to commit murder today. Some people just wanted to brighten your day._ Calleigh looked up at the balcony and waved at the outlandishly dressed Wenches Guilde who were continuing to throw handfuls of rose petals over the Court Ladies.

They continued along, turning right and going slightly uphill. At the top of the rise was a woman in a wheel chair. Calleigh could see tears glistening on the woman's cheeks. She looked around for the possible cause of distress, but could find none. As they passed, making their way closer to a sunken in stage, Calleigh caught the woman saying something.

"So beautiful...It's all so beautiful," the woman wept in joy.

Calleigh felt a lump rise in her throat and blinked back a few tears of her own. The woman was weeping in joy at the sight of the performers parading and capering in front of her, not knowing how sorrowful and heavy their hearts were that day. She only knew the joy she felt at seeing them; perhaps a childhood dream realized.

The looks on the faces of the performers told her that they knew this, too; this joy they could impart, the emotion they could invoke in their audiences by just being there for them. A fierce protectiveness that she never thought she'd feel for perfect strangers burned inside her. _They were going to catch the killer. It would take a miracle for her not to squeeze the life out of him with her own bare hands._

"It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?" the woman in a dove gray and rose pink Flemish gown said beside her. She was Pat Fields, Danny's wife and Court costumer.

Calleigh nodded. "Yeah, I never knew you all could affect someone like that."

"Why do you think we do it?"

They past the faire ground's only working bakery and then down past the children's area and past the Celtic encampment and Action Stage. They crossed a small footbridge and then made a sharp turn to the right which brought them across the top of Cardiac Hill; so named by the Faire folk for it's steep grade, and then slightly uphill again under a thick canopy of trees on the right and a line of genteel shops to the left.

There was a brief flash of movement from the trees and then a crossbow bolt was buried in the crown of the Queen's tall riding hat. Calleigh caught it all and after glancing back to see that the woman was unharmed, she broke off, lifting her skirts slightly for better mobility, pushing through the crowd toward the Fairy Glen where the shot had originated.

She spun in slow circles, peering up into the trees. _The shot was lateral and the woman had been on horseback. _

Nothing.

She scanned the line of patrons, but they all had their backs to her and were intent on watching the last of the parade. Her shooter had vanished into thin air. Which was physically impossible..

"Damn!" She muttered. Looking around, Calleigh spotted Horatio coming toward her. She ran to meet him. "Is Beth alright?"

"She's fine; shaken, but fine. She finished the Parade and they're switching out her hat so we can bag it for evidence. She's insisting on continuing."

"There's guts for you," Calleigh commented.

"Uh-huh," He removed his sunglasses and looked around. "What did you see?"

"I saw a flash of motion and then the bolt flew laterally out of the tree line. I broke away and came here, hoping to catch the shooter climbing out of the tree, but nothing." Calleigh said, her voice laced with frustration. "He's vanished."

"Alright, we know that Ms. Kantor is the next target. The killer is obviously good with the weapon, yet he misses killing her. Why?" Horatio mused. He looked down at Calleigh. Her face was flushed from the heat and exertion and a few stray tendrils of blonde hair had escaped from her carefully coiffed hairstyle and curled around her cheeks. She was radiant. "I need you stay with Ms. Kantor and keep her safe. I'm pulling the rest of the team from where they are and placing them in the Royal Court. Until then, I need you on Protective Detail."

Within the hour the team had exchanged their original costumes for those of Courtiers. Calleigh sat on a bench in the backstage area of the Priory Stage and looked on in amusement at her teammates' lack of familiarity in how their clothing worked. She had gone through the same thing not more than a few hours ago, but now that her body had adjusted to it's new constraints, she was highly amused in watching all of them.

Ryan and Eric were dressed in what Tom Hicks had called Yeomen Red. They wore identical uniforms of the 16th Century Yeomen of the Guard, the Tudor Rose emblazoned in fine gold embroidery on their chests. In their hands they each held a long pole with a steel blade resembling a hatchet on the end. They were told that these items were called glaves and one of their long-standing Yeomen, Jacob Richards, was drilling them in how to properly handle the dangerous weapon.

Natalia and Horatio had changed as well. They both now wore costumes not unlike Calleigh's own. Natalia's was deep navy brocade, liberally embroidered and beaded with gold threads, pearls and sapphire blue crystals. On her head she wore a heavily starched and stiffened heart-shaped attifet that framed her face perfectly, giving an air of sweetness to it. The style and coloring of the gown made her large chocolate eyes become her most attractive and prominent feature.

Natalia in Calleigh's opinion, looked like she belonged, wearing those clothes with an ease that added to her already regal bearing and statuesque height. She fanned herself and laughed as Ryan and Eric's glaves collided with a loud clang and a soft curse. "Nice one guys!" she called.

"You wanna come out here and try this?" Ryan asked in an irritated tone.

Natalia shook her head, her eyes sparkling and the drill continued.

Calleigh's eyes were drawn to Horatio, who was only just then having a sword buckled to his hip. His bright blue eyes and flame red hair were set off perfectly by his chocolate brown, gold and navy accented doublet. There were gold edged slashes where navy silk puffs peeked and flashes of sapphire light glinted from each edge. His paned slops ended mid-thigh, revealing pale blue opaque stockings that disappeared beneath doe brown knee high riding boots. The doublet seemed to accent the broadness of his chest and Calleigh could not help herself from taking in every inch of his form. Her gaze lingered longest on the glimpse of well-muscled thigh before raising her eyes to meet his own. She blushed ever-so-slightly, realising that she'd been caught. She rose and went to the cooler, pouring herself a goblet of cold water and exiting the backstage door to keep here eye on the Queen's welfare during the Royal Banquet.

"There; I think that works. How does it feel?" Danny Fields, the Guildemaster of the Royal Court asked, stepping back and surveying Horatio with a skilled eye. "It's a good thing that Bob and Linda were taking their girls to NASCAR this weekend. You two fit perfectly."

"I'm not sure this sword is such a good idea," Horatio said after turning and catching it in Natalia's skirts.

"You'll get used to it. Think about it like a stick shift," Danny suppressed a grin.. "When in doubt, place it in "park". He went to his bag and pulled out several sheets of paper. "For appearances' sake, I have to give you characters for the duration. Mr. Wolfe and Mr. Delko are already in their Yeomen personas and we can just keep the surnames for simplicity's sake."

"Hear that, Eric," Natalia teased. "You have no personality."

"Not from what the ladies say." he bantered back, "You must be talking about Wolfe," Eric ducked as Ryan's glave swung perilously close to his head. "Hey, careful with that!"

"You might not want to tease me, I have a deadly weapon in my hands," Ryan shot back

"And your big head is a really tempting target …"

"Gentlemen," Horatio said warningly, though he was enjoying the banter. Turning to Danny he asked "You were saying, Mr. Fields?"

"Lt. Caine, you'll be taking over Bob's role for now. He's Sir Henry Stanley, Earl of Derby. You have a son on the cast today and he's our Priory's Master of Ceremonies. Ms. Boa Vista, you're to be playing his wife, Margaret Clifford, Lady Stanley, Countess of Derby." Danny said, handing them both sheets of paper with brief character biographies on them.

"Living the high life, I can deal with that." Natalia said with a grin.

Horatio scanned his bio quickly. "How necessary is this?"

"It'll keep you completely blended in with the rest of the court and they'll have something to call you. You are also our two highest ranking peers so you don't have to worry about things like giving deference to anyone except the Queen. The Yeomen bow to no one as long as they're escorting the Queen, which is what the two of them will be doing for the rest of the day," Danny explained.

"Wait, this is funny, Horatio and I don't like each other?" Natalia said skimming the pages in her hand for a moment before asking. "Aren't we supposed to be married?"

"Arranged marriage, he had a thing with a long term mistress and you were forced to acknowledge his bastard daughter by her and raise her as your own," Danny explained succinctly. "Historically they fought like cat and dog and once the Queen herself had to order them to live in separate homes. Henry is a bit of a party boy and Margaret is a bit of a shopaholic. Think you two can have a little fun with that?"

A sly, playful smile crept around Natalia's lips. "Stand back and watch."

"What about Calleigh's character?" Horatio asked feeling a slight sense of unease at the look in Natalia's eye. "What do we call her?"

"She is Susan Bertie, Lady Grey, Countess of Kent. To make it easy on her and allow her to do her job, we've put it around Court that Lady Kent is a beauty, but has all the attention span and intellect of a butterfly. That allows her to not bother with reverencing and acknowledging anyone higher than her. It also allows her to do what she needs to do when she needs to do it without it looking odd." Danny said glancing at what the court had come to call the 'Clock of Doom'. "Okay, it's nearly three o'clock. We're going to have to get Beth to the Joust with all of you in place. Wolfe, Delko, do what the guys tell you. Lt., I'm making you one of our Gentlemen Pensioners along with myself and Brian Horne. Ms. Boa Vista, you and Ms. Duquesne will be attending the Queen. Is that alright?"

Horatio nodded. "That'll keep us all in close proximity. I was thinking of leaving Detective Tripp in security so that he can watch from the outside and we can watch from inside."

Danny grinned, grateful that he wouldn't have to try and find a costume to fit the big Texan. "Sounds like a plan. Shall we?"

"I think the back of my knees are sweating," Natalia whispered to Calleigh as they gathered around the Queen while she removed her small body mike.

Calleigh grimaced. "I don't think I've ever sweat so much in my life."

Beth looked up at her two new Ladies. "How are you doing? Are you well?"

"We should be asking you that," Calleigh said. "Is there a plan or do we just wander aimlessly? I've never done this thing before."

Eric turned his head so that he could see into the small knot of people. "I'm all for getting her someplace safe for a while. Anybody know when Tripp's due back with news?"

"He called just before we left for the Joust and said that he was on his way back." Horatio said, eyes alert and scanning for threats. "The Chief called Camden in so that he can look at that bolt from the hat and compare it to the other one pulled from our vic,"

"I can go back to the Lab for analysis," Calleigh offered.

"And leave us here? No way." Horatio said with mock horror, Turning to Beth, he asked quietly "Ms.- I mean, Your Majesty, what do you normally do after the Joust is over? I think it might be best to keep to your routine. It'll make our killer feel more comfortable and he might be bold enough to try again. Are you up for it?"

"My Lord Earl, I was going to suggest that very thing, myself." Beth replied managing to speak both as herself and her character simultaneously. It was a trick that several of the experienced re-enactors had mastered. "Indeed, my life is in danger, but the good patrons know that not and expect of me that I go forth amongst them all and show myself and make myself available to them. I have ne'er shirked my duties afore now and I shall not shrink from them this day."

"But-" Danny began.

"Gilbert, thou knowest how I do feel on this my duty." The Queen said clearly in a tone that commanded obedience. "I am not foolhardy and I do know that I have the finest constables in the entire county keeping me safe. If this doth help to draw the foul murderer forth from his cowardly hiding, than so be it. Now, as to a plan, I had hoped to make my way to some of the new merchants this day and greet them and welcome them to our good town of Cheshire."

"Could we confine it to the smallest area possible until we catch the guy?" Calleigh asked softly, shifting her basket on her left arm, unobtrusively bringing her weapon closer to hand. Her lack of English accent and proper language forced her to keep her voice low.

"Certes, Lady Kent, I wish no extra burden placed upon all of you. Your task is difficult enough without adding extra distance and territory. We shall hold close to the Priory yard and Action Stage. What say you all?" she asked, projecting forth every ounce of the Queen she was supposed to be playing.

"Yes, ma'am," Horatio said, adjusting his hat over his eyes to block the bright sun and lamenting the absence of his sunglasses for the thousandth time.

As a unit they stood back and reformed around the Queen as soon as they came off the reviewing stand.

They spent the rest of the afternoon, scanning the crowds for real or perceived threats and trying to blend in with the seasoned Courtiers. At the end of the day with the patrons well on their ways home and the gates shut for the night, they sent Beth home with a radio car escort and all returned to the Lab to finish processing the evidence.

Eric rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock on the computer in Fingerprints. _11:30 p.m._ _do you know where your brain is …?_ He stretched and rose from his seat and made his way to the break room for some coffee. He found Horatio there, also nursing coffee and munching on a sandwich.

Horatio looked up. "Did the prints from the tack check out in AFIS?"

"Dead end H; they were too smudged for even a partial, and the others I found all check out as belonging to the guys in the Joust troupe." He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down. "It's possible the guy isn't in the system. I'm really starting to believe that this guy is from the outside."

"Calleigh said the same thing about an hour ago. The cross bow bolt was a match, by the way," Horatio admitted. "Why don't you go home, Eric, and get some sleep? We have to be back on site in the morning for round two."

"Oh no," Eric groaned. "Not another day in those getups?"

"I'm afraid so. We have a call time of 7:45 a.m., so you'd better get going," Horatio said, finishing his near midnight snack and standing up. "I'm on my way out, myself."

Eric nodded and dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain, washed the cup, retrieved his things from his locker and drove home for much needed sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 5**_

The smell of cooking bacon assaulted the sleepy CSI's as they piled out of the Hummers early the next morning. Eric's stomach rumbled. "I didn't eat breakfast."

Calleigh looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "And this is my issue, why exactly?"

"I'm just saying," Eric grumbled as they entered the back gate of the Priory yard's backstage area. "You might have to scrape me off the ground later when my blood sugar crashes."

"In your dreams Eric!" she retorted smartly, giving him a friendly shove.

The actors hustled to and fro, setting things up for the day. A couple of the ladies were doing their hair in the mirrors, some were putting in contact lenses and one man was filling three big coolers with water, dumping in powdered sports drink mix into two,and stirring them vigorously before dumping in entire bags of ice. Three older gentlemen passed them, chatting animatedly, each wearing an identical t-shirt exclaming: 'Old Farts Cheshire Tour 1574'. A cavernous garage-like structure already had its main door rolled open and they could see all the furniture and decorations that were out on the set the day before nestled inside.

"Danny," Horatio grabbed the young man by the arm as he hurried by. "Where can we set up?"

"We'll get the lock-up emptied and you can stow your things in there; in the mean time, make yourselves at home." Danny replied, checking the day's duty roster. "Unless you have a major objection, I've put your team on the same afternoon duty rotation as yesterday."

"No," Horatio replied, liking the younger man more and more with each passing moment. "No, that's good."

"Hey, Danny," a short, stocky man in a military style outfit said, sticking his head in the back gate. "I heard you have the care and feeding of the investigators. Think they'd want some breakfast? You know the boys always make too much."

"I dunno, Rick. Why don't you ask them?" Danny replied with a grin. "They're standing right in front of you."

The man flushed, introduced himself as Rick Cochrane, the Guildemaster for the Military Guilde and invited them over for bacon and eggs. The team accepted gracefully over the growling of Eric's stomach and wandered off toward the smells of cooking food. Once the team had eaten, they thanked the military guilde and returned across the garden to the Royal Court.

A tall, barrel-chested fellow, arms tattooed, long hair in a neat ponytail ambled up to the group and handed each a Mountain Dew. "I'd drink it if I were you. Nectar of the Gods! It's better than an energy drink and it'll help wake you up. Trust me, you'll be kicking yourself in about an hour if you don't," He said with an air of deep knowledge about such things. "By the way, I'm Kevin Laughlin, the host noble."

"Thanks Kevin," Calleigh had met and spoke at length with the man the day before. He and his real life wife were playing the host nobles and in truth were kind and generous people. "I really need this."

She took the cap off and let the cold, bubbly soft drink cascade down her throat, surprising her in her body's want of it. "So I suppose this is another renn faire ritual?"

"You got it." He smiled down at her. "Oh, and ladies, when it's time to get dressed, let me know if you need help tying your corsets. My wife can point you in the direction of the best lacers."

Calleigh returned his smile. "Thank you, we will."

"Alright," Horatio said, rolling his shoulders, trying to get comfortable in his courtier outfit. "We shadow the court today until Beth comes out. I've spoken with Mr. Fields and he's paired you up with experienced courtiers so that you'll be able to blend in better. As always, keep your eyes and ears open to anything not quite right."

"Besides that, is there anything else we need to be doing?" Calleigh asked, fanning her already flushed face. Her ribcage ached mildly with the constraint of the corset, even though it wasn't tied as snugly as it was the day before. The lady who tied her in, Karen, told her it was because her body wasn't used to it; that the discomfort would fade in a few hours as her body readjusted to the garment. _Yeah right._

"I hate to say this, since we're still investigating a murder," Horatio said dryly as he caught a signal from Danny for the team to join the Court for introductions. "But, enjoy yourselves, ladies and gentlemen."

The team ambled over to where the near fifty actors portraying the Court of Elizabeth Tudor sat upon benches or rested against trees. Several of them were still fussing with the last minute details of their costumes.

Kathryn, the kind, plump woman that had fixed Calleigh's hair the day before, grabbed her arm and firmly sat her on a bench. "You're not done, you know."

Calleigh sighed. "Do you all have to do this every day?"

"Mmm-hmm," Kathryn mumbled around a mouthful of bobby pins as she gently brushed out Calleigh's thick blonde hair.

"Why doesn't Natalia have to do this?"

"Because," Kathryn said patiently, beginning the complex process of fashioning a period coiffure "her style of head covering gives her the ability to only fuss with the front instead of the whole head. Besides, it would be a shame to cover all this hair. And, trust me; wearing any kind of a hat just makes it all feel hotter."

Calleigh blushed. "Thanks." She looked up as Danny began to speak.

"As most of you know, Scott Friedman was murdered near the Joust field on Friday night and there was an attempt on Beth's life during the mid-day Parade yesterday. For those of you that are just starting today, you know nothing of this because Lisa has ordered a media blackout until the murderer can be caught. To that end, we are hosting the Miami-Dade Crime Scene Investigation team that is assigned to the murder. We are to offer them every courtesy. Would Lt. Caine and his team step forward, please?"

Horatio and the rest, save Calleigh, who was still having her hair dressed, stood and took the small gazebo-style stage. Danny addressed everyone in turn, giving their real and character names. He urged the Court to extend all courtesy and co-operation. He read off the pairing off of the CSI's with the experienced Courtiers for the morning.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, buddy up and have a good time." Danny looked over his guilde with pride and exchanged a knowing glance with his APQ, who nodded. "Let's get to the gate. May the force be with you,"

And also with you," the court echoed back with grins.

"Have you broken your fast?" Michele, "Lady Paget-Carey" asked Calleigh as they wandered away from the front gate.

Calleigh was mildly puzzled. "Excuse me?"

Michele leaned in closer and dropped her voice. "Did you have breakfast?"

"Oh, sorry; yes, I did. The Military fed all of us," Calleigh replied. "Forgive me; I have no idea how to speak."

"'Tis well, my Lady Countess. You have been long from Court and the ways may be strange unto you and our speech different." Lady Paget-Carey smiled indulgently, falling back into character with an ease that, to Calleigh at least, was unnerving. "You have been in the country for so very long. Do you mind if we stop here? I have not broken my fast and wish for some sausages."

Calleigh nodded, turning her back to her "buddy" to take in the first of the crowds, already on high alert. The first of the patrons had already made it past the mushroom booth they stood at. Courtiers began to filter past, all stopping to give her deference. Finally, she saw Horatio turn toward her around the town square pub. She broke into a smile as relief flooded her. _Someone to share the watch-keeping._ Taking a clue from Paget-Carey, she dropped a curtsy.

Horatio stepped in to speak privately, noting how she seemed to relax as soon as she saw him. "Everything alright?"

"I'm fine. I just want to catch this guy so badly that it hurts, you know?" Calleigh said softly. "The people that work here and the people that patron this place deserve to feel safe."

"I couldn't agree more." Horatio smiled slightly, hearing the fierceness in her soft southern voice. He felt just as protective over everyone as well. "Keep your eyes open and maybe we can close this today. If the killer made an attempt yesterday and gave us the slip, then it stands to reason they'll arrogant enough to try again today."

"I hope so," Calleigh growled as Lady Paget-Carey tugged on her arm. "Because I want him so badly that I can taste it!"

"My Lady Countess, let not Lady Derby find you in so close congress with my Lord Derby." Paget-Carey said with a stern face. "We must away if all is well,"

Calleigh nodded mutely, falling into her role as the quintessential dumb blonde. "But he's pretty," she said lightly, with what she hoped was a vapid smile and trying gamely for an English accent. _Her accent made it just off the eastern shore of North Carolina, but it was a start._

Horatio stifled a laugh at hearing Calleigh sound so brainless; knowing that she was anything but. _And there was a list of convictions as long as his arm to prove it._ Danny, or rather now that the grounds were open to the public, Sir Gilbert Talbot, Lord Talbot, tugged his arm, dragging him in the opposite direction.

Horatio allowed himself to be lead away, with some not so feigned reluctance, to tour the faire grounds - Lord Talbot happily playing tour guide. They made the ritual morning stop at the local bakery for some breakfast pastries and then proceeded to make their way to the glass shop to ogle the new goblets and tumblers as they glinted and sparkled in the morning sun.

Danny held up a burgundy and amber one, turning it so that he could see the swirled pattern on the bottom. He showed Horatio its beauty. "Sandra is a master craftsman at this. She hand blows each and every goblet. She's even started taking apprentices this year."

Horatio held up another goblet and aped Danny's actions, marveling at the workmanship. The goblet was heavy, but it looked extremely sturdy. "She's an artist. Are these as sturdy as they look?"

His companion turned and whacked the goblet against a tree trunk. It made a solid thunk but was entirely undamaged. "We've had goblets fall from their holders, hit the ground and get kicked into all sorts of objects. The only things that seem to ever break them are crashing them into each other, concrete and the Maids of Honor. Those girls somehow manage to break at least three goblets a year." Danny shook his head, then shrugged "I think they joust with them or something."

They spent more time in the glass shop, accepting some lemonade and cookies from one of the workers before taking their leave and moving off to other shops until the time came for them all to meet back in the Priory yard for morning dance practice. The team immediately headed backstage to meet.

"Did anyone see anything?" Horatio asked.

"Other than women wearing chainmail who should definitely NOT be allowed anywhere near it? No." Eric shook his head. "Man, it was like cottage cheese in a strainer. Definitely a visual I can do without."

"Three Imperial Stormtroopers and a World War II guy," Ryan said, downing water. "Otherwise, I'm out."

"I saw them too. It was all I could do not to laugh out loud. Lady Scrope had to stuff her handkerchief into my mouth to stop me." Natalia snickered. "But other than that, nothing. Are you sure this guy is going to try again today; could we just be spinning our wheels?"

"It's possible that he's not on site yet. The Parade doesn't step off for another hour and a half and yesterday he didn't make his move until the Parade," Horatio said, removing his hat and wiping the sweat from his forehead. "We'll just have to wait and see."

Natalia fanned her flushed face and drank thirstily from her goblet. "How do these people do this?"

"We have constitutions of concrete elephants," a petite red-head in an all black velvet and gold lace dress said, cracking open a can of carbonated water and pouring it's contents into her goblet. She gave everyone an impish smile."Just kidding; you get used to it. It's a mind set, you go into the day knowing that you're going to be uncomfortable and just drink plenty of fluids. If you haven't been to the port-a-priv yet, you need to drink more."

"Hey, I forgot to ask," Natalia said, "but how do you go to the bathroom in these things?"

"Well..." A smile played around the woman's lips. "Very carefully. You lift your skirts, drop your whatever, back yourself up and pray that you can reach everything with the toilet paper. I'm sorry that I can't be more helpful. That's why the real courtiers had body servants. Sorry."

"Thanks...I think," Natalia said queasily as the woman left to go back on stage. She tossed a damp rag at Calleigh, who was stifling laughter. "What are you laughing at?"

"Been there, done that. It's an experience," Calleigh laughed. "But seriously, listen to her. I ended up feeling really light-headed just before we all paraded up to the Parade yesterday. I wasn't drinking enough and had gotten pretty dehydrated. I'm glad someone caught it. I wouldn't be sitting here today."

Horatio frowned in concern at her. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because it was minor and it passed. I'm fine." She glanced at the Clock of Doom as Danny hustled into the backstage area and shooed everyone, including the team out for morning dance practice.

The team fanned themselves out to watch the crowd for anyone looking predatory; occasionally chatting with the veteran courtiers that they had been buddied up with to have them point out the regulars that took in the Court's portion of the show as if it were a soap opera. Those few were immediately dismissed as suspects.

Natalia got pulled into a slow and stately Pavanne by the Lord Admiral.

"But, I don't know it," she protested quietly.

"Worry not, Lady Derby." He smiled at her warmly, "It is simple and I shall talk you through it."

She glanced to Horatio for help. "Henry?"

"Take her for as long as you wish." He said in a bored tone, remembering that they were supposed to despise each other. "At least I do not have to dance with her." His comment earned him a glare from Natalia that promised retribution as the Lord Admiral escorted her onto the dance floor. He felt, rather than saw Calleigh sidle in next to him.

"At least she got the Pavanne. It looks nice and easy and gentle. Yesterday, when you all were getting your costumes from wardrobe, Lord Talbot pulled me out for a dance called the Musician's Revenge," she commented quietly.

"What's the "revenge" part?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "The dance changes tempo without warning. It was brutal."

He laughed as the dance ended and Natalia gratefully left the dance floor. Everyone's attention was drawn upward, onto the ramparts when Yeoman Van Dunne cried, "Oyez, oyez, my Lords and Ladies! Her Majesty approaches the gates of the city!"

Horatio offered Calleigh his arm, copying what the other court men were doing. "Lady Kent?"

She slipped her hand over his. "I'd be delighted."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 6**_

Horatio lounged in an overstuffed chair near the mouth of the Priory yard while the Royal Banquet went on. He reached over and grabbed another piece of watermelon while a wandering minstrel sang of a pretty lass with blue eyes. He was keeping a close eye on all of his CSI's after hearing Calleigh's account of her close call with dehydration. Natalia was strolling toward the garden, chatting with a few of the female courtiers and snacking on fruit, making certain to drink. Eric and Ryan had gone back stage to get something more substantial and Calleigh popped this and that into her mouth around serving Her Majesty behind the Table of State.

They were all going to be attending again that afternoon and were taking the advice of the veteran performers around them very seriously. _Anyone who thought that this was merely a grand game of dress-up needed their head examined._ A stern looking woman dressed all in black and reminding him very much of the nuns in his parish church walked over to him with a pitcher of water. She made to fill his goblet.

"No, thank you," he said politely.

"You may be an Earl, but I still know what is best for you. You will accept it and drink, my Lord," she said firmly.

"Then if you insist; I will...uhm..."

"Mistress Blanche Parry," she supplied him.

"Thank you, Mistress Parry," Horatio replied, his inexperience making him use the incorrect form of address. In her kindness and understanding, Mistress Blanche did not correct him. He sipped from the goblet. The water was cold and it cascaded down his throat in a blissful waterfall. He wished he could just pour it over his head and be done with it.

She reached over and patted his cheek. "That's a good boy," she said indulgently like the nursemaid she was before disappearing into the crowd..

"My pater is not having a liaison with Lady Kent!" Sir Ferdinando Stanley, Lord Strange of Knowkin exploded in a stage whisper directly to Horatio's right. "She's addle-pated!"

"But that is what I heard, Lord Strange," Sir Henry Lee, Queen's Champion, said. "It would surprise me not as she doth have a comely visage and your father is not immune. Half the men in the Court are smitten by her beauty and the other half in love with her."

"If that is half-in-half," Lord Strange replied in a scoffing tone "Then a full quarter of the men are as addle-pated as she!"

"You find her not pleasing to the eye?" Lee persisted, as though he had serious doubts about the strength of the other man's protestations.

"But a pain to the ears and an ache to the brain," Strange explained. "She prattles and prates of things of no consequence. That the woman can string words together to form a single coherent thought is but nigh onto a miracle!"

Horatio bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. _These people are amazingly funny._ "Ah, but if one shuts his ears off, son," Horatio said mildly. "She is a sight to behold."

"Father, I knew not that you had o'erheard!" Lord Strange exclaimed. He turned to Henry Lee. "Be off with thee now, man. Embarrass me no longer."

Horatio watched as Henry Lee took center stage and addressed the Queen and assembled patrons.

"Majesty, far be it from me to interrupt your Banqueting, but it is that time of day that our brave knights tilters assemble themselves, and donning armor, mount themselves upon their steeds and-"

"Is there a point to this Sir Henry?" the Queen asked mildly, interrupting his ramble and earning a few giggles from the audience.

"Yes there is, Your Majesty," Henry stammered.

"Then get on with it, man."

"Majesty, your brave knights tilters have assembled-"

"We have already established that." She replied, making an idle gesture that caused the jewels on her fingers to wink in the light.

"Yes, well..." Henry appeared to be at a loss as to how to continue

The Queen rolled her eyes in mock irritation and sighed. "The point, Henry; while I'm still Queen," she said, earning yet more laughter from the audience.

"The point, Your Majesty is the Joust!" he said triumphantly.

The Queen's face lit with delight and she removed her napkin from her shoulder, tossing it neatly over her nearly empty plate. "Why did you not just say so?"

Henry opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for water as the table was removed and all the Ladies of the Court surrounded Her Majesty as she readied herself for the Joust.

Danny tapped Horatio on the shoulder and handed him the bec du corbin that he was to carry. The three pronged weapon rested easily against his shoulder as he waited for the Ladies to part and the Queen to advance through them. He scanned the remaining patrons for anything out of the ordinary and could find nothing.

Finally the Ladies parted and the Queen stepped through, Natalia and Calleigh trailing in her wake. Horatio took up his place directly to the Queen's right, slightly ahead of Calleigh.

He glanced back at her. "Did you drink enough?"

"I'm fine," she replied quietly.

He looked at Natalia, "And you?"

Natalia nodded. "I'm good."

The Queen looked up at Horatio. "The welfare of this team is utmost in thy mind, my Lord Earl?"

"Always, Your Majesty; always."

The Joust over, they clustered around Beth as she removed the microphone, handing it off to a stage manager. Horatio leaned in. "Same plan as yesterday?"

"Thou hast seen nothing suspicious during the Joust?" she asked.

"Not a thing," he replied, glancing at the others. The rest of the team added their agreement.

"If he is here, then we must needs draw him out into the open, aye?" she stated, still halfway in Queen Mode.

"What do you have planned?" Eric asked, glancing back at her.

"I think me that we shall attempt to visit the new merchants near Lake Elizabeth this day. If he is here, that shall put him square in the open with no tree cover to hide him from the keen eyes of my vigilant Courtiers," she said bravely. "The plan is not flawed; I have dwelt on it much overnight. Though it placeth me in mortal danger, it may be of use to force his hand. I cannot see him as wanting to be cautious and wait for next weekend."

Horatio nodded his head in admiring agreement. "Then if you're willing to do it, we will. Are you sure you don't want to work for MDPD? You'd make a great profiler. We could use one on this team to run the victimology full-time."

She smiled up at him, her grin nearly as blinding as Calleigh's, her sapphire blue eyes twinkling at the compliment on her intellect. "Thank thee but nay. This weekend hath been worrisome enough without performing thy duties as well. I can imagine how difficult it is upon all of thee. I could not do it. Believe me or nay, but this Queening it hath it's rewards in plenty. Thou dost not know the impact one can have on another's life, aye?"

Calleigh nodded in agreement; the only one of the team to do so. The statement called to mind the weeping patron during the Parade and how it moved Calleigh's own heart to see it. "There are rewards to our jobs as well, you know. Putting the bad guys away has a certain satisfaction to it."

"This is not drawing the villain into the open." Beth rose, motioning everyone to back away so that she could pass through them. "We should be on the move. It will look too suspicious if we cower here."

"I was wrong," Horatio backed up and said into Eric's ear, "maybe S.W.A.T. would be more her game."

Eric chuckled as he moved to take up his position to the left and slightly in front of the Queen.

They moved out and away from the reviewing stand and up into the Faire grounds. Slowly, for nearly every patron they met wanted a picture with or wanted to speak to the Queen, they made their way out toward the Lake Elizabeth area, a place devoid of trees; a virtual Serengeti of sorts. The hot south Florida sun beat down on them, relentless and harsh, as the Queen visited each and every new merchant, welcoming them personally, making them feel wanted. Several times merchant's assistants rushed out to the entourage and filled tankards and goblets with cool water so that no one would suffer from the heat and humidity more than was entirely necessary. A pickle merchant sent them all a complimentary sample from his wares, instructing them to eat, for the pickle would restore what they had lost in perspiration. The team accepted the advice and gifts with good grace, knowing that the people were speaking from experience. The generosity and care still stunned them.

Despite the kindness and generosity of the shopkeepers, the team kept scanning the gathering crowds with sharp vigilance. The hot sun and glare off the plain around them made it hard to focus for very long; each of them had to look away at a darker interior of a shop or close their eyes briefly to clear their vision. In a place where everything could mean something or nothing - and nothing was quite as it seemed - the task was wearing and exhausting. Finally, after what felt like an eternity inside the sun itself, the Queen turned the entourage toward the distant shade of Farnam's Meadow and much needed relief from the sun.

"We shall head toward the Celtic area for a short rest afore I must needs stop the Mayor and all of his foolishness." She turned back to her entourage. "I think me that all of thee shall be glad of the respite, being unused to the rigors of Progress."

"That, Your Majesty," Horatio said, wiping the sweat that was running down his face.

"Is possibly the understatement of the year."

She smiled her brilliant smile up at him. "I do thank all of thee for thy patience and vigilance…"

The flash of sun on bare steel was almost out of her peripheral vision;but Calleigh caught it and turned her head just in time to see the raised crossbow aimed directly at Beth. Without thinking, she dropped the glass goblet she was carrying and launched herself at her charge.

"Get down!" She tackled Beth with every bit of strength she had, knocking her to the ground. There was a sharp pain in Calleigh's right arm. She looked down to see a torn sleeve and blood welling lazily from the cut the fletchings gave her as the bolt narrowly missed her. Anger welled and bubbled over as she stood.

"He shot my dress!" was all she could manage to splutter with any coherence. "It's a rental!"

Before anyone could react properly, Calleigh grabbed her firearm, hiked her skirts and tore after the now visible and fleeing assailant; she chased him through and around the crowds of patrons, who obviously thought it was all part of the show.

He had just begun to gain distance from her when she saw a trio of court women. Using what she had been told to use only in extreme circumstances she gathered all the air she could and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Hey Rube! The guy with the bow!"

The raised alarm was like liquid lightning. The smallest of the Courtier women, Thomasina, the Queen's Own Dwarf, grabbed the walking stick of her companion, Mistress Blanche Parry, and neatly tripped the fleeing assailant. He tumbled to the ground, stunned, the crossbow skittering to a halt just out of his reach. Shopkeepers, performers and Friends of the Faire swarmed the suspect, giving him no escape as Calleigh jogged up, panting.

"Don't. Move." She bit out, leveling her weapon directly at his head. "I'll blow your head off."

Horatio was the first to arrive, Frank seconds behind him. "Cuff him, Frank."

Frank removed the handcuffs from his belt, snapping them open. "It will be my distinct pleasure, Horatio." He cuffed the assailant, hauling him roughly to his feet. "Let's go Robin Hood."

Horatio turned his attention to Calleigh. Her weapon was now lowered and she was panting heavily, fighting the corset and bodice for air. Her face was bright red and her hair had begun to come down from the intricate coif. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I will be...once...I catch...my breath." She grinned up at him, clearly pleased with herself. She pointed to a stunned Thomasina. "She's the one that got him."

A sense of relief washed over him accompanied by an appreciation of, despite her disheveled appearance, how she could still be so beautiful. Horatio tore his attention away before it became too obvious and looked down at the diminutive woman that Calleigh had indicated.

He knelt to look her in the eye. "You're Katie, right?"

"Yes," she said shakily.

"Because of your quick thinking, you helped catch the guy that killed Scott Friedman. Thank you," he said sincerely.

The realization of her part in the scheme of things dawned on her, still shaking, yet bursting with pride and happiness; she smiled at him, braces glinting in the dappled sunlight. "You're welcome. I-I just reacted. She yelled "Hey Rube". I did the only thing that came to mind. I grabbed Hannah's walking stick and stuck it out. I guess I was just in the right place at the right time."

"Well, I'm glad you were," Horatio stood as Danny trotted over.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked.

"Everyone is fine," Horatio smiled up at him. "And this young woman here caught the killer for us."

Danny smiled. "I always knew Thomasina was fierce."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Joust Murder**_

_**Chapter 7**_

The team sat, still in their Courtier outfits, behind the first aide tent to fill each other in. With them sat Court Guildemaster Danny Fields, the head of security, John Franks, and Lisa Peters, the General Manager of the Faire. One of the first aide medics was just finishing laying a bandage over Calleigh's cut.

"The assailant was a Mr. Roger Ziegler. Is that name familiar?" Horatio asked.

"Roger?" Lisa's eyes widened. "He-he used to run our in-house Joust troupe years ago. Corporate made us give him and the troupe the pink slip because the insurance rates on them were too high. He dropped out of sight for years. The next thing I know is Scott telling me that Roger tried to hire him away from here to be the General Manager for the Faire that he was starting. Scott turned him down flat; then Scott was killed. I can't believe Roger killed him."

"Believe it, Ms. Peters. He confessed to the whole thing." Horatio's voice was gentle. "He's going away on counts of murder and attempted murder."

"Apparently, Ms. Peters, Roger Ziegler was attempting to open his own festival and was having a hard time getting a management staff together. Yours is not the only one in South Florida and he made the mistake of trying to break into an already glutted market. No one was biting," Calleigh said softly. "He was at the end of his rope and trying to recruit your staff was his last option before his investors pulled out."

"I never thought Roger would do something like this." Danny shook his head sadly. "He always was a shining example of the tenants of Knighthood; he made all his jousters memorize them."

Lisa raised her head. "I've spoken to Corporate and they wish for me to extend to you and your team their deepest thanks and gratitude and wish to extend to all of you what they can; lifetime passes to the park and free food and drink for life. It's not much, but it's what they can offer."

"I'm afraid that we can't accept the gift, ma'am." Horatio said. "As county officers, we aren't allowed to do so,"

"You have to accept something." Lisa persisted. "You know that we're all grateful beyond words for what you all have done for us; please allow us to show you how much."

Horatio looked around at his overheated and exhausted team. They deserved something special; being in period clothing and adhering to the Court routine while still doing their jobs went above and beyond as far as he was concerned. "I'm sure we can think of something that would be within legal constraints."

"Lt. Caine, are you all planning on leaving anytime soon?" Danny asked.

"We have reports to write and plenty of evidence to log," Horatio said. "We do need to get back to the Lab."

"Could you all stay through Late Audience?" Danny asked "It would mean a lot to the Guilde; to show you our appreciation,"

"Horatio, the case is closed and the reports can wait. We have the killer in custody with his full confession." Calleigh looked up at Horatio; perhaps it was the better understanding in her eyes that truly spoke to him. "Let them do it."

Horatio gazed at her, taken off guard by her insistence. "Well..."

"Yeah, let them go ahead and do whatever," Eric piped up. "They're really some incredible people."

Horatio saw the desire to stay mirrored in everyone's eyes. "With such pleas, how can I resist? Mr. Fields, we'll stay."

Danny's face lit. He quickly counted noses. "Excellent!"

The Priory garden was full to capacity with patrons as well as performers as Late Audience began. The CSI's were corralled onto the front benches as Danny stepped forward.

"I, as Guildemaster of this assembled Court ask a boon of all of you; I wish to speak from my heart, which I am certes will echo the whispering hearts of my fellow Courtiers and even unto the denizens of Cheshire. It isn't often that we have a grave tragedy happen on these enchanted grounds - and even rarer is the inclusion of a diligent and most sensitive collection of strangers to aid in easing the tragedy. On Friday evening we lost one of our own to a violent end. The broadsides will carry the news this evening. Into our shock and sorrow strode six strangers that, through their dedication to truth and sensitivity to us all, helped ease our sorrow and ferret out the offender and send him to justice. They are strange to us no longer and are now to be counted as family. Your Majesty?"

The Queen stood and took center stage. "Lord Talbot is correct in his recounting of the events of this most trying of weekends. Into our midst and over the course of two days, into our hearts, six remarkable individuals gave us all everything they had, up to and including assimilating themselves into the Court with good grace and humor. I personally am grateful for this very day one Lady did save my life at the very peril of her own; I am now made safe, as all of you as well, by these outstanding Courtiers. I wish to call forward Sir Henry Stanley, Earl of Derby," Her Majesty said as Horatio stood and was prodded to stand beside her.

She recited each name, ending with Frank, still in his security uniform. All took their place at her side, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"This is a most unusual gathering; for they are not of this Court nor are they ambassadors from any Court of any Faire town. They come as the bringers of justice and searchers for the truth. It is not of their customs to accept any manner of gift in thanks for their services, yet we knew we must do something to show them our esteem. I and my Court wish to induct them into the Order of the Rose, our most precious and prized Order, for those that are inducted into it are done so for unusual service. Gilbert?" Her Majesty said, stepping back from the team.

"Your Majesty," Danny stepped forward. "I had nearly forgotten. Your own Dwarf, Thomasina, did aid in the capture of the criminal and deserves to be recognized as well. She heard Lady Kent's alarm and thought swiftly, using Blanche Parry's walking stick to trip the felon and allow his capture. Thomasina, will you join the honorees?"

Thomasina du Paris rose from her seat at the Queen's feet and took her place of honor.

Danny stepped up to each team member and pinned a Tudor Rose pin, a green and white ribbon hanging from it, to each and every member of the team, embracing them as he did so. He placed a light kiss on both Natalia and Calleigh's cheeks.

He turned back to the assembled audience. "These are no Courtiers, as Her Majesty said; all but our own Thomasina are constables from the Miami-Dade Crime Lab and we at the South Florida Renaissance Faire are eternally grateful for their fine service and good humor. Three cheers for our guests! Hip, hip!"

The huzzahs rang out for a count of three and then the team returned to their benches with warm hearts and a new, deep appreciation for the folk who worked that Faire; for their kindness, co-operation and dedication to their individual crafts.

The next day was Monday and those folk around them would go back to their day jobs, but, Horatio had already decided, it would be a day off for his entire team. They deserved it.


End file.
